


five times joe was jealous and one time he didn't have to be

by blackboxxremedy



Series: Van Days [1]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Denial of Feelings, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Self-Denial, Van Days, and idk maybe he's not exactly okay with the fact that he's gay, but it's just that it kinda freaks joe out that he's into stuff like that, does that make any sense??, he's also terrible at dealing with his feelings, i think it makes more sense if you read it, like there's no homophoia or anything like that involved, okay so basically joe's in love with andy, there's no homophobia though i really mean it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 02:33:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7135043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackboxxremedy/pseuds/blackboxxremedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe doesn't know why seeing Andy with other people makes him so angry- it just does. He's terrified of that, and he knows what it means, but he just doesn't know how to deal with it.</p>
<p>Alternately: little blurbs about Joe being possessive and then finally figuring out why he feels that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	five times joe was jealous and one time he didn't have to be

**Author's Note:**

> two of my greatest loves are trohley and those 5+1 things, hence this. enjoy.
> 
> (oh, and just so you know, joe freaks out about his sexuality a little there at the end, incase anybody needs a warning for something like that! but there's nothing homophobic, i swear.)

**1.**

Joe doesn’t understand why it makes him angry to listen to Andy tell stories about having sex with other people. Pete and Patrick aren’t angry at Andy- for fuck’s sake, they’re slapping him on the back and congratulating him- so why is Joe so pissed? He doesn’t know, but he definitely doesn’t like feeling like this.

Andy goes on about some girl with freckles and huge tits, and Joe wants to hit something. Why does he want to hit something? He’s not even jealous that Andy got laid. Fuck, he’s actually more jealous of the fucking girl because she got to-

Joe’s not even going to entertain that thought. He can’t afford to do that to himself at a time like this.

===

**2.**

They’re somewhere in Indiana, post-show, pre-passing out, and they’re all having a good time. Each of them has a girl in their lap and a beer in their hand, so Joe thinks it’s okay if he deems the night a success.

Joe’s girl is pretty, all long legs and doe eyes, and what with the ways she’s smiling at him, he’s pretty confident that he’ll get to take her to bed later. Pete and Patrick seem to be heading that way as well, because the girls that they’re entertaining are giggling and smiling like wolves, and Andy…

Andy’s dealing with one hell of a girl- some scene chick who actually makes the look work- and they seem to be enjoying each other. Andy will whisper something in the girl’s ear, and then she’ll laugh and run her hand down his chest. Every so often, she’ll wiggle in his lap a little, and Joe can tell that Andy’s pretending not to notice what she’s doing. That makes something stir in Joe’s stomach, something annoyed and even a little angry, and Joe doesn’t even want to think about why he feels this way.

Later, after Joe and the girl he met are done having sex, he lies awake and contemplates what the fuck his problem is.

===

**3.**

By some miracle, they’ve managed to come up with just under fifteen bucks, which means an actual meal tonight.

...Well, okay, so it means they can each get exactly one coffee and that they’ll have to share a plate of fries, but still: it’s a huge achievement for the four of them.

They find a little diner and slide into a booth, Pete and Patrick on one side, Joe and Andy on the other. It’s a tiny little place, and it doesn’t exactly look like the pinnacle of culinary experiences, but shit, what do they care? The food’s cheap and it’ll do.

The waitress turns on the charm when she comes to the table, and right out of the gate, it’s obvious that Andy’s the one she’s after. She flashes pretty smiles and bats her eyes at him, and it makes Joe feel sick when Andy smiles back at her, even if he is just being nice. He feels like an ass for feeling the way he does, but he can’t help it.

When the feast is over, they have about three dollars and change to their names. Pete hands Joe the money and tells him to tip the waitress while he and the other guys go to the bathroom, and Joe does just that. He slaps whatever coins he has in his hand on the table and makes sure to glare at the chick on his way to the door, despite the fact that he wants to punch himself in the mouth for being such a dick. Truth be told, Joe couldn’t even tell you why he’s being such an ass. It’s not like Andy is his fucking boyfriend or something, so why does he care so much?

(In a disturbing development, the thought Andy  _ not  _ being Joe’s boyfriend makes his chest ache in a horrible way. The feeling terrifies Joe to his very core.)

===

**4.**

The fact that Pete and Andy are sharing a blanket shouldn’t make Joe so angry, but it does. It really,  _ really _ does. He wants to kick something or maybe even break something, but mostly, Joe just wants to kick Pete’s ass, just absolutely wail on him until he’s black and fucking blue. Joe can see it so clearly in his head- the way Pete would look, the way Pete would fight back, the way Joe would just hurt him and hurt and hurt him- and that scares him. Sure, Joe’s wanted to kick Pete’s ass before (it sort of comes with the territory of being Pete’s friend), but he’s never wanted to do it this badly before. And the worst part is, Joe can’t even pinpoint  _ why _ he wants to kick Pete’s ass… Why can’t he do that?

Before he does anything stupid, Joe grabs a blanket and settles himself on the floor. He listens to Pete and Andy’s breathing, listens to Patrick humming to himself in the front seat, listens to the whir of the wheels as they fly down the interstate, and tries to calm himself down. He doesn’t like feeling angry like his, especially at his friends, and he just can’t understand what’s making him act this way. When he thinks back on it, it’s obvious to Joe that Andy is the common denominator in most of these situations. It’s not news to him, but in a way, it’s a huge revelation.

Deep down, Joe knows what all of this means- he knows, but he doesn’t want to admit it to himself.

===

**5.**

God has smiled upon them tonight, blessing them with enough for not one, but  _ two _ cheap hotel rooms. Joe couldn’t be more excited; he can’t remember the last time he slept in a real bed all by himself, and with Patrick as a roommate, this should be an easy, peaceful night. Rooming with Andy would have been fine, too, but all things considered, Joe thinks it best to keep his distance from him for a while. He’s still not over the fact that Andy and Pete shared a blanket (which freaks Joe the fuck out, because it really wasn’t a big deal), so… yeah. Joe’s glad that Patrick asked to room with him, because he doesn’t know what he would have done otherwise.

He and Patrick settle in their respective beds and talk for a while, and Joe tries not to listen to all of the noise coming through the wall behind him. Patrick and Joe may have not been able to get lucky, but Pete and Andy certainly has no problem picking up girls after the show. They each took a chick back to the hotel with them, and now they’re playing host to their company in the room that adjoins Patrick and Joe’s. For right now, it’s all loud storytelling and even louder drunken laughter, but Joe’s sure that’ll change within the next hour or two.

“We’re gonna have to listen to them fuck later, aren’t we?” Patrick says to Joe, sighing tiredly.

“Probably, man,” Joe replies, sighing as well. It wouldn’t be the first time either of them have listened to their friends getting laid, but it’s certainly never going to be a pleasant experience. (If you ask Joe, he knows way too fucking much about what his best friends sound like when they’re in the middle of having an orgasm.)

Patrick shakes his head and reaches over to turn off the light, giving Joe a weary goodnight as he goes. Joe says goodnight back and then turns onto his side, burying his face into the too-plush pillow underneath his head, nearly moaning at the feel of it. The room may be shit, and there’s probably more DNA on these sheets than there is any crime lab within a ten-mile radius, but Joe doesn’t give a shit; the pure bliss that comes from sleeping on a real mattress instead of in the van or on someone’s floor outweighs everything else at this point.

Joe lies awake in the dark, listening to Patrick’s soft snoring and the rattling of the AC unit, unable to sleep even though he should be passed out from exhaustion right now. Every so often, a burst of ridiculously loud laughter will come from the other side of the wall, but other than that, everything is pretty quiet. After a while, even all of the laughing and talking dies down in the other room.

Sometime after three o’clock, Joe listens to Pete fuck the brains out of whoever he brought back with him, and the only reason that Joe knows it’s Pete is because the chick moans his name pretty clearly at one point. Joe tries to block all of the panting and moaning and the thumping of the headboard against the wall, but it’s not easy. (Thankfully, Pete’s too drunk to show off or go for round two, so Joe doesn’t have to listen for that long.) He thinks it’s weird that he doesn’t hear Andy’s pants and moans somewhere in there, but then again, he’s also okay with  _ not _ hearing any of that.

But then the creaking starts, and Joe realizes with a sinking feeling that he’s not going to get away that easily. 

At first, the noise isn’t bad, just the gentle squeaking of bedsprings and a few quiet grunts here and there. Things pick up pretty quickly as time goes on, but the wall muffles the worst of it, so Joe just tries to tune out whatever noise he  _ can _ hear, covers pulled up to his neck and faced tucked into the pillows.

It seems like Andy and the girl are never going to stop. They moan and grunt and cry out for what feels like hours, even though Joe knows it’s been more like fifteen minutes. The girl is loud, but Joe can still hear Andy, and even though he wills his body to quit reacting to what it’s hearing, Joe’s cock starts to get hard in his boxers. He tries to tell himself that it’s the  _ girl’s _ little squeals that are getting to him like this, but…

But that would be a lie, and he knows it.

Later, when Joe’s washing the cum off of his hands in the bathroom, he can barely look himself in the eye.  
  


===

**1.**

Joe’s huddled in the van by himself, sulking amongst dirty t-shirts and a couple of tattered amps. The rest of the guys are outside in the parking lot entertaining a group of girls, and Joe can hear their laughter from inside the van. Pete is talking and laughing the loudest like he always is, but Joe can pick out Andy and Patrick’s voices from the jumble of words and sounds as well. He finds himself focusing on what Andy’s saying the most, but at this point, Joe’s just too tired to be ashamed of himself. Still, it makes his chest ache to think about Andy making a move on a girl outside, and the image of Andy actually having sex with whatever girl he’s hitting on is just… unbearable.

Ten minutes pass, and then twenty, and Joe pretty much decides that his friends are probably going off to get laid, Andy included. Joe lets his head falls against the side of an amp with a huff, and he thinks with a an air despair that this is the lowest point of his life so far. He’s sitting in the back of a shitty, beat-up van amongst heaps of shoddy musical equipment, jealous beyond belief that one of his bandmates is probably fucking someone when he should actually be happy for the guy. Never in Joe’s whole life has he ever felt this fucking pathetic, and he just doesn’t know how to handle it. Everything he thinks about these days doesn’t make any sense, and all of the stuff with Andy recently…

The passenger door opens with a squeak of rusty hinges, and Joe nearly jumps out of his skin. He’d zoned out during his little pity party, and he hadn’t been expecting company so soon, given the state of things.

“Man, Pete and Patrick must really be hurting for it. Those chicks were fucking obnoxious and they  _ still _ went off with them.”

Joe’s never been so glad to hear Andy’s voice before in his entire life.

“It’s so fucking cold, too. I don’t think my hands are ever gonna be warm again.” Andy starts picking his way to the back of the van, and Joe is so happy to see Andy and his dorky glasses moving towards him.

“Don’t be such a pussy, man,” Joe teases, but only because he feels like he has to. Truth be told, he really wants to hold Andy until he’s warm again.

“Shut the fuck up,” Andy laughs, settling in front of Joe now. Now that he’s closer, Joe can see that Andy’s got snowflakes in his hair. “You would be complaining, too, if they were your hands.”

“Maybe I’m just not a big baby like you are.” Joe’s taunting Andy again, but this time it’s because he wants to.

“Oh yeah?” Andy challenges with a laugh, and then he’s lunging forward at Joe, hands held straight out in front of him. His palms make contact with Joe’s neck, and Joe gives a shout when he feels just how cold they really are. Andy cackles maniacally at that, moving to put his hands all over Joe’s face and wherever else he’s left skin exposed. Joe tries to shove Andy away, but his attempts to get his friend off of him are half-assed and weak. In all honesty, messing around with Andy like this feels both amazing and terrifying at the same time, and Joe never wants it to end- not the laughing, not the smiling, and certainly not the touching.

When the whole little wrestling match ends, Andy has Joe pinned against the side of the van. The two of them are panting for breath and grinning at each in the semi-darkness, and Joe’s afraid that Andy’s going to hear the way his heart is thudding like a kickdrum in his chest. They haven’t been this close to each other in a long time, at least not alone, and the tension of the moment weighs heavy on Joe’s shoulders.

“Warmer?” Joe asks, still catching his breath. Andy nods once, and then his grin softens into something more affectionate and less mischievous. (Joe kind of almost dies right then and there.)

“Yeah,” he breathes, and Joe is acutely aware of the way Andy’s grip on his arm laxes up and becomes more gentle. “Yeah, I’m much better now.”

“Good,” Joe says, nodding for no reason. Andy’s not moving to get off of him, and with every passing second, the air around them begins to feel more and more electric, like someone’s pumping a current into the space. Joe swallows heavily in an attempt to get a grip on himself, and then he starts to talk, “So, um, where did-”

But Andy cuts him off, and it actually takes Joe a good two or three seconds to process the fact that Andy’s kissing him right now.

Joe skin screams and his heart sings. He starts kissing back, hands moving hesitantly to cradle Andy face, and God, does that make the whole thing so much better. For a solid minute, Joe and Andy just sit there kissing each other gently and doing nothing else, and Joe feels like he’s been born again into some better, alternate plane of existence.

But then Joe realizes what he’s actually doing, and he flips the fuck out.  
  
He shoves Andy away, not hard enough to hurt him, but just hard enough to make him fall back onto his ass. Andy looks shell-shocked, and that immediately makes Joe feel like shit. He wants so badly to apologize for his behavior, but panic is rising up in his chest and oh fuck, Joe wishes that none of this had happened. He shouldn’t have given in, he shouldn’t have been so fucking stupid. Joe’s just single-handedly caused one of the biggest clusterfucks in human history, and what’s worse, he’s hurt Andy’s feelings in the process.

“Joe, dude, what’s-”

“I’m not fucking gay!” Joe exclaims, tears blurring in his eyes. His throat and chest burn as he tries to hold himself back from crying, but he doesn’t think he’s going to be able to do it, not this time.

Andy gives Joe a bewildered look, still braced on his hands from catching himself when Joe shoved him away. But then his features soften, and something akin to recognition crosses his face. He sits up a little better and starts talking to Joe softly: “Joe, just because we kissed doesn’t mean you’re gay. I mean, you could be, but-”

“I am  _ not _ .  _ Fucking _ .  _ Gay _ ,” Joe declares through gritted teeth. He crying now, tears flowing freely down his face, and he hates it. He hates letting Andy see him like this, and he hates that they’re having this conversation, and most of all, he hates how he really feels deep down inside.

“Joe,” Andy says softly, and Joe doesn’t flinch away when Andy reaches out to touch his face. “Joe, listen to me. It’s okay.”

“I’m not gay,” Joe insists, nearly whispering now, but the fights been taken out of him. Andy tilts his head to the side and rubs his thumb back and forth across Joe’s cheek. Joe finally breaks down and lets himself press against Andy’s hand, relishing the feel of his palm.

“It’s okay,” Andy repeats, and his voice is so soft and gentle. Joe hunches forward and begins crying in earnest, drowning in his own feelings at this point. Andy coaxes him into lying down, and in a fit of sheer childishness, Joe tugs on Andy’s sleeves and begs him to lie down, too.

“Okay, Joe, if that’s what you want.” Andy lays down beside him, and Joe buries his face into Andy’s chest immediately. He stays like that and cries for another fifteen or twenty minutes, and Andy is so patient with him, petting Joe’s hair and saying soothing things to him.

Finally, Joe emerges from his breakdown, rough around the edges, but with much more clarity about what he wants and how he feels. He’s scared to death, but at least he’s finally manning the fuck up and doing something about it.

Joe sits up and wipes his face with the sleeves of his hoodie, congested and more than a little embarrassed now that his head is clearer. But Andy’s not pissed at him, and he’s not even making fun of Joe, so Joe’s grateful for that. Andy helps him clean himself up, wiping Joe’s eyes a little more with his own sleeves and even swiping at the corners of Joe’s mouth real fast. He smooths Joe’s hair down a little, and Joe’s chest aches.

“I’m sorry I got your shirt all wet,” Joe says quietly, eyeing the wet patch on the front of Andy’s t-shirt with a little bit of guilt. Andy shakes his head, and there’s nothing but caring and affection in his expression. (Joe can feel himself melting, and oh God, he might actually be more fucked than he previously thought.)

“That’s okay, baby,” Andy says softly, and Joe feels something inside of him jump when Andy calls him by the petname. “Are you okay now?”

“I think so,” Joe answers slowly, not really sure himself. He feels okay, but he knows that he’s going to have to work through this with himself a little more before he can be at one hundred percent again.

Andy nods, and then he draws Joe in for what’s probably the best hug Joe’s ever received in his life. They sit there and just hold each other for a minute, not saying a word, before Andy finally whispers, “You wanna make out a little?”

  
“Oh my God, yes,” Joe groans, and then they’re kissing again, and Joe can’t help but feel just the slightest bit better after that.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!


End file.
